


Safe

by extension_cord



Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers Generation One
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 04:06:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3313289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extension_cord/pseuds/extension_cord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following the incident with the Negavator, an anxious Red Alert wonders if what happened that day was, in fact, his real self. Inferno begs to differ. Hurt/Comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Graveyard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graveyard/gifts).



> Commission! This was fun to write. (and I apologize for the wait!! <3)

* * *

Ratchet had told him everything checked out: nothing loose in his head, no dents in his brain module, no crossed wires or frayed circuitry or burnt relays. His systems were functioning optimally, and aside from a few superficial scuffs and scratches left from the explosion, Red Alert was fit to leave the medbay.

Why, then, did he feel like this?

The paranoia he'd experienced — that frightening paranoia and that inexplicable lust for control — still felt fresh in Red Alert's memory, like the sting left by a slap, and even though several Earth days had passed since the Negavator incident, he couldn't escape the creeping fear that maybe he really _was_ like that, beneath the surface. That awful paranoia, not to mention his treachery to the Autobot cause — it clung to him, and despite Ratchet's all-clear, Red Alert certainly didn't _feel_ okay.

He'd not left his quarters since his return to the _Ark_. He was safe here, away from those who had seen him in his compromised state — and those who had only heard the news, secondhand. Red Alert wasn't sure which was worse; as awful a spectacle he had been, he knew how stories traveled on base, and he knew that gossip moved through the Autobot ranks nearly as fast as the speed of light, the sordid details snowballing and snowballing until —

Red Alert sunk to the floor beside his recharge berth, hands clasped against his helm.

_You're more damaged than I thought._

Optimus Prime's words echoed in the Security Director's mind, and above all else, they hurt the most.

Was Red Alert damaged? Defective? Incompetent, even? A walking malfunction, a panic attack waiting to happen — insane? Inadequate? Not fit for his job? Was a knock to the head all that it took to bring these faults to light?

Red Alert offlined his optics and gripped his head tighter, as if he could somehow push the intrusive thoughts from his mind.

And then there came a chime at the door.

Red Alert hesitated, afraid to vent or make any sort of sound, afraid that the whine of his servomotors might give him away. He became aware, suddenly, of how dark his quarters were, of how cold and silent it was, and the quickening thrum of his spark was deafening.

The door chimed again, and when Red Alert didn't move, the chime was replaced by a soft, rapping knock.

"Red, c'mon. I know you're in there."

It was no use hiding. Inferno had located him here — cornered him — and Red Alert climbed to his feet, trudged across the room, and hit the intercom button next to the door. "What is it, Inferno?"

"I wanna talk. And I'd rather come in and talk face-to-face, and not have a conversation like this."

Red Alert hesitated, then vented a sigh and palmed open his door. He expected to see Inferno standing rigid with an exasperated look on his face, shaking an admonishing finger, scolding Red Alert for locking himself away for days, starving himself, being an anxious, paranoid, antisocial glitch —

But as the door slid aside, Inferno gleamed beneath the bright light of the corridor, wearing a kind smile that made Red Alert's ventilation system stall, if only for a split second. "Can I come in?"

In that moment, Red Alert felt very small and at a loss for coherent words. He stepped aside, granting the firetruck entrance; the door swept shut and the room was shrouded in near-darkness once more. It was oppressive, and Red Alert fretted, wondering if Inferno would judge him for festering in the shadows, afraid that by dialing up the lights, his companion would see how dusty and gaunt he'd become. "Inferno, I —"

The larger Autobot placed a reassuring hand on Red Alert's shoulder, and, as if sensing the other's unease, he slowly lit his headlights, bathing the room in a warm, orangey glow. "I've missed ya."

Red Alert hesitated, unsure of how to respond to a simple sentiment that was filled with such genuine affection. They stood beside one another, Inferno seemingly unperturbed by the silence, until finally, Red Alert murmured, "I'm sorry for sealing myself away. I ought to apologize to everyone whose lives I put in danger. I ought to step down and —"

"You oughta take care of yourself, that's what," Inferno said, his words firm yet still quiet and kind. "Everyone knows that wasn't you, Red."

"Are you so sure?" Red Alert stepped away, then took a seat on the edge of his berth. It was hard and cold and it creaked beneath his weight. "I'm wondering, Inferno — I'm wondering — what if that _was_ me? The _real_ me?"

Inferno stepped closer, his electromagnetic field emanating a pleasant, calming warmth. "It wasn't. I _know_ you, Red."

"I'm afraid."

"And that's okay," the firetruck replied carefully. He placed his hand on Red Alert's shoulder, thumb massaging the tire treads. "I'm not gonna tell you that you shouldn't be scared. What I am gonna do is be here for you, when you are." Inferno sank to his knees, and when Red Alert glanced up, he found that they were optic-to-optic. "You're safe, Red. I want you to remember that."

Red Alert heard his fans stutter — out of embarrassment and gratitude and that lingering mix of fear and self-loathing — and then he dimmed his optics, tipped his forehead to rest against Inferno's, and whispered, "Thank you."

Time passed — it might have been several minutes, or perhaps an hour or more — and gradually Red Alert felt the thrum of his electromagnetic field fall into rhythm with Inferno's. They were comfortable in one another's silence; nothing needed to be said nor explained. At long last, Red Alert rebooted his vision — and there was Inferno, forehead still resting against his, optics casting a blue glow over his face. The firetruck smiled an easy, happy smile, and Red Alert felt his own lips twitch, quirking upward until he, too, wore a small grin.

"That's what I like to see," Inferno rumbled. "Been a while since I last saw you smile and _mean_ it."

"Your humor is infectious." Red Alert paused, then raised a hand and stroked his companion's helm. "And your compassion. I'm not sure what I would do without you."

"Likewise, Red." He shifted slightly, and a moment later they were embracing. Inferno's arms fit easily around the Security Director's smaller frame, and Red Alert leaned into the hug, his fingers latching onto the bulky, red armor.

"And you're not — you're not just _saying_ that? To placate me?"

"Of course not." Red Alert felt Inferno's lips brush against his. "Never forget that you're an amazing person. You're smart — you're kind — you're talented and _handsome_. There ain't _anyone_ else like you in the universe, Red, and I feel so lucky to be the one you're sharin' your life with."

Red Alert couldn't formulate a verbal response. Overcome by emotion and at a loss for words, all he could do was shutter his optics, deepen the kiss, and lose himself in the warmth and security of Inferno's embrace.

_fin._

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :D


End file.
